The Lost Ones (Supernatural)
by ThePatriotAngel
Summary: Sam and Dean are investigating the disappearances of babies from a small Texas town. With an injured Castiel and a strange, tricky woman who won't get off their backs to worry about, the brothers have a lot to figure out. Why won't this woman stop following them, and why has Castiel's Angel mojo started lashing out uncontrollably? (Multi chapter, mature themes/situations, smut)
1. Chapter 1

Soft music from the 70's poured out the old speakers like water from a zen fountain. The two passengers sat comfortably in the slick leather seats as if they'd been doing it for years. They pass a road sign: _Welcome to West Native Creek_. _population: 15,309._ Up ahead, in the gap between the thick trees over the black highway, traffic from a small city could be seen.

The driver did not smile. He knew that beneath the comforting, homely appearance that the small town provided there was a secret side. A side that was draped in shadows and crawling with the creatures that blend in so meticulously well that it takes only the most trained eyes to see the difference.

Of course, when you've been raised to see them, it's not that hard.

* * *

"So get this," the man in the passenger seat said, "Two babies have gone missing, I can't find any links with the families except that both of the kids went to the same day care. They are of different races, and even different religions. The Thomases were committed atheists, while the Browns are Buddhist flower children. Literally, they have a Buddhist/Hindi shop downtown."

The driver nodded his head in acknowledgement. "So, we check out the day care first?"

"Yeah. I'll dig the CPS badges out when we get to the hotel."

"Right. We're getting food first. We've been on the road for thirteen hours."

The man in the passenger closed his laptop. "Dean, you just ate a burger like two hours ago."

Dean, the driver, turned from the main street, following signs to a cheap motel. "Shut up Sam. I'm hungry."

Sam laughed, conceding to his wish. Dean parked their car, and cut off the rumbling of the old motor by taking the keys. Sam opened his door and slipped the laptop into a duffel bag in the back seat. Dean went directly inside the motel office, asking for a room with two queens. He came out of the office with two room key cards and tossed one to Sam over the hood of the car as the two of them retrieved military-grade duffel bags from the back seat.

They entered their room and each man sat his bag down on a bed. Dean turned towards the bathroom, but jumped back, startled. "Ah!" The man standing before him in his path had a serious, solemn face. His shoulders sloped and blood soaked his white dress shirt under his black suit jacket.

"Cas, what happened?" Sam stepped forward, worry bringing his eyebrows together. Cas started to fall, but the boys rushed forward to catch him. Dean got there first, lifting the suited man up and onto his bed with a grunt.

Cas's voice was gruff as he spoke. "I was attacked. I didn't know anywhere else to go."

Dean turned on Sam, raining his voice sternly. "Sammy, go get the shit from the trunk!" He threw his keys at the taller man and turned back to Cas.

"Who hurt you?" He helped him out of his suit jacket, Cas groaning at the pain washing through his body. Dean unbuttoned his white dress shirt and peeled it away from his wound as Sam reentered the room with a tackle box.

"I don't know his name, Dean." Sam and Dean stared down a huge slice on his torso from a knife, starting from his shoulder and coming down across his pectoral muscle and down his abdomen. It wasn't very deep, but it was long and there was a lot of blood. Dean went right to work, Sam handing him thick pads of gause and medical tape to stop the bleeding before they can stitch him up.

Cas had removed his blue tie from around his neck and put it in his mouth to bite down on when the boys did something. His hands were at the sheets, almost ripping them as his face screwed up in pain adn his loud groans echoes throughout the room.

Sam gave him a shot of morphine, ignoring to Cas's protest that it wouldn't work. He soon passed out, leaving Dean and Sam to stitch him up.

Sam started suturing at the top of the large cut while Dean started at the bottom to get it done quicker. Sam was glad that Castiel chose them to come to for help. The wound didn't look like someone had just cut Cas, but like it was done minutes or even an hour ago. There was blood everywhere all over Cas's suit. His vanilla trench coat was missing.

Cas would have had to wait until Dean and Sam were alone in their hotel room in order to appear to them, for it would be problematic if someone had seen him and called 911 or tried to take Cas to a hospital. Angels in hospitals don't pan out well.

"Who do you think made this cut, Dean?"

Dean glanced at his brother, who was further along in stitching than he was. Guess Dean was always the one getting hurt protecting him and Sam had more practice sewing him up.

"It had to be an angel blade, but everyone's got one nowadays, so it could have been anyone."

* * *

The brothers eventually finished their sewing and wrapped Cas's torso in bandages, having to lift him up. Cas woke up right as they started, groaning. Each of his arms were over a brothers' shoulder, his sweat streaming down his face. He fisted the sleeves on the boys' shirts as they wrapped bandages around his body.

"Thank you for doing this." They laid Castiel back down against the sheets.

"You're family, Cas," Dean said. "We're going to go investigate. We'll be back later, okay?" He brought out a black and white suit from his duffel bag and went into the bathroom. Sam dotted Cas's brow with a cool wet cloth, wiping away the layer of sweat that appeared there. He gave him another shot of morphine.

"Why can't you heal yourself, Cas?"

"I don't know. There was something in that blade. I can't... It's very hard to explain."

"Your mojo's broken?"

Cas nodded weakly. "Yes, that's it."

Sam stood up and pulled his suit out, too. His was dark grey. He started to take off his layers of cloths, flannel shirt and then his white t-shirt under that. Cas's eyes closed in sleep as Sam changed into his suit. Dean came out of the bathroom, straitening his black tie. "Damn I'm hungry."

Sam shrugged on his suit jacket and tossed Dean his CPS badge. "Let's go eat." The boys salted the door and window before leaving Cas to sleep in peace.

* * *

Dean patted the top of his precious Impala before sliding into the drivers seat enthusiastically. Sam stared sideways at his brother. "Dude, how can you be so peppy? Cas just got attacked. He's hurt, Dean."

Dean threw the can into reverse and began to rumble down the street with the other cars. "Ain't nothing we can do for Cas right now until he feels better, and me being sad isn't going to help either. I'm about to get a gravy-smothered chicken fried steak and baked potato. Sammy, I'm happy."

He clicked on the radio which was already on a classics station and turned it up.

They browsed for restaurants before picking one and pulling into the parking lot. The brothers stepped out with natural grace and walked into the double doors where they were greeted by a host who took them to an empty booth.

Sam immediately went to work, pulling a stack of papers, a folded map, and a laptop from a satchel on the seat beside him.

"Oh com on, Sammy."

Sam paused in what he was typing and looked at his brother innocently. "Babies are going missing, Dean."

Dean plucked a standing drink menu from the salt and pepper holder and began to glance trough it. "Exactly how much time passed between each kidnapping?"

"Uh," Sam searched through his notes and did a quick calculation in his head. "Almost exactly forty-eight hours." His eyebrows came together as he redid his math with an online calculator.

Dean nodded absently and put the menu back, upside down. "And how long's it been since the last one?"

"Twenty-five."

"Mmhm. So we have twenty three hours to figure out who or what is stealing babies and how to kill it." And its only ten in the morning."

Scribbling a pen onto a note pad, a waitress appeared at their table. As soon as Dean looked up at her, his eyelids fluttered as he put on his _I'm-totally-available-but-not-desperate_ face. The woman wasn't too young or too plain, and had shoulder-length wavy dark hair with pretty blue eyes. She was wearing a simple dark grey t-shirt advertising some local business and a nice pair of jeans.

"Hello, sirs. My name is Gina. What can I get you guys to drink?"

Sam ordered sweet tea without looking up and chose to flip through his papers, looking for a certain one. Dean, having remembered that he was technically supposed to be on duty didn't order the alcohol tonic he was planning to and went with a cherry coke instead.

"Alright, I'll have that right out."

"Thank you," Dean said, laying his charm. "Hey," He caught her wrist as she started to walk away, "have you heard anything about the babies that went missing?"

The girl nodded. "Everyone has, it's big news here."

Dean nodded in a very professional way. "Did you know either of the families?"

Gina nodded. "I go into Mr. Brown's store all the time. He's a nice man."

"Nice how?"

Gina smiled sweetly, living in a memory for a moment. "When my mother died, and my dad couldn't find work, I had to find a job to help support the family. Mr. Brown gave me a job when other people wouldn't hire me. I was just under sixteen."

"He sounds great. My partner and I are here to investigate the question of why these children are going missing. Anything you could tell us would be appreciated."

Gina lightly chuckled. "Of course. I'll get your drinks first, though. Your partner looks like he needs a drink." She threw a glance at Sam before walking away from their table.

"Dude," Dean smirked at his brother who finally looked up from his papers, "she's totally into me."


	2. Chapter 2

Dean felt fat as he and Sam exited the restaurant. He patted his stomach and threw a glance over his shoulder as he heard a loud rumble.

The brothers looked toward the road as an engine roar got closer, and then a person on a sleek black motorcycle came riding into the parking lot. The bike was impressive, black and chrome just like the Impala was. Dean's mouth hung open as the distinctly feminine figure parked in the spot right next to the Impala and where the men were standing. Sam looked up from here he was digging in the back seat.

The woman kicked open the kick stand and set the bike over, pulling her helmet off. Dark brown hair cascaded down her shoulders, falling out of the helmet. It was voluminous and almost wild. She took her dark brown jacket off (It almost matched her hair) and laid it over on top of her helmet on the seat.

She turned around when she noticed the Winchesters staring at her. "Can I help you?" Her tone dripped with sarcasm. Dean was still struck by the sight of her, this time by the outline her dark red tank top made of her body under her black vest-like top.

"Actually you can," Sam said, the first to snap out of his trance. He pulled his CPS badge out of his suit jacket. "Do you know anything about the missing kids?" He showed her his badge and then handed her the missing papers. She grazed them before handing them back.

"Never heard of them." She handed the paper back to him. He stared at her strangely. "Are you _from_ West Native Creek?"

She smirked at Dean, looked him up and down, openly checking him out as she crossed her arms and sat back against her bike seat. "You could say that. I was born here, but today, I'm just passin' though."

Dean closed his mouth finally and shook his head to rid him of bad thoughts. "Well, if you hear anything about them, please call me." Dean handed her a business card, giving her _the look_ , and she looked down at it.

"Agent A. Rose?" She was smirking at him. She tucked it away into her bra, the dark grey color sticking out over her cloths against her vanilla skin. She kicked off onto her feet and began to walk to the diner's front door.

Dean called out to her, "What is your name?" Sam face-palmed.

She just smirked at him over her shoulder and said, "Stevie Nicks."

* * *

Dean and Sam investigated the day care, seeing nothing out of the ordinary, no sulfur, no EMF, no strange claw marks or hex bags. They went back to check on Castiel, but he was sleeping and Sam gave him more meds to keep his intense pain at bay. Dean sat beside Cas on his bed as Sam went to find a vending machine.

Cas gently rubbed his face with his hand that was up beside his head. He was still laying on top of the white sheets on Dean's bed, shirtless. Dean took of Cas's shoes, hoping to make him more comfortable. "Thank you, Dean," Cas grumbled roughly.

"Welcome," Dean said back. "Can I get you anything, Cas?"

Cas shook his head and groaned deeply. "No. I need," he panted, "to find out what has happened to me. It's like I- like I'm human. I've never felt so much pain..."

Dean pressed a glass of water to Cas's lips. "Who can we summon that can tell us what happened to you? Do you think Bobby would know?"

"He might." Cas groaned out.

Dean nodded and pulled out his phone to call Bobby and stepped outside the door. He told Bobby everything that had happened, that Cas's mojo was broken, how he had a giant slice down his skin, and then a little about the case. Bobby's only advice was to be careful.

As Dean ended the call, Sam came up beside him under the shade cast by the open stairwell above them. "I found you a clogged artery in bun." He handed Dean his bag and Dean thanked him without his usual enthusiasm. Sam could tell this thing with Cas was really bothering him.

"What'd you get?" Dean asked, noticing a different kind of plastic bag in Sam's hand.

Sam smirked lightly as he pushed open the door to the hotel room. "Strawberries, bananas, blueberries, peanut butter, kale, and milk. I'm making a smoothie."

Dean stared at his brother like he'd grown a second head. "You are such a freak."

* * *

Around one o' clock Dean and Sam went to Mr. Brown's store. Sitting in the car, the brothers saw that the store was closed and decided to go check it out once it was dark.

"Should we go check out the houses?" Sam checked his watch and the looming count-down clock on the face between the numbers.

"Yeah, probably," Dean said. He checked his mirrors, but squinted in his rear-view mirror. A motorcycle formed a little dot down the most-empty road behind him. He blinked and tried to look closer, but the person driving it turned off the road out of sight.

"According to the police report, Mrs. Thomas was sitting in Delaney Park talking to her friend. The kid, Toby Thomas, was sitting in his stroller, sound asleep." Sam scanned the paper in his hand. "She looked at him one second and he was there asleep, and the next, he was gone. Just like that."

"Awesome."

* * *

Castiel laid in the motel queen bed for a long time after the boys left. He replayed the scene of his attack over again in his mind, looking for something he might have missed. There was nothing.

 _It was just barely nine in the morning, the loud sounds of New Orleans themed around him in its usual hustle and bustle of city life. New scents came from every corner vendor and every sunken-in shop that lined the streets. Castiel smelled the food, but never felt the desire to eat. He stared at the humans from his chair at a thin metal table under a restaurant awning._

 _They rushed around in their lives, paying no attention to the things that actually mattered, moving too fast to appreciate their short number of days. Castiel had lived longer than the first humans, he had seen them slowly fall away from their humanity, changing the very definition of humanity._

 _Humanity used to be a great thing: passion, strength, and other amiable qualities. It was knowledge, learning things about the world around them and cherishing each second and counting it as a blessing, a gift._

 _Now, humanity is a negative thing, a drive towards savagery, towards sin and lust, the downfall of even the most gracious humans._

 _Castiel had been around these humans so long, he slowly started to obtain their traits, like some sort of cosmic osmosis. He watched them, looking for the one he was searching for. A hand touched the side of his face, transporting them from the busy street to some place darker. A menacing voice: what have you done, Castiel? Do you remember me? Don't you remember what you've done?_

Cas groaned. He remembered the slicing sound of the blade and how the blackness vanished and he ended up in the shade of a New Orleans alley by a dumpster. His coat was missing.

He laid there now on Dean's bed. His pain was beginning to come back already, the morphine shots wearing off once again. They shouldn't have worked, human medicines. Since his grace was not working, he'd become basically human. Great.

Until he was healthy, he relied totally on the protection and care of Sam and Dean. He didn't remember going to sleep while they were stitching him, but he knew there were minutes in his memory, and sleep as the only explanation how they were spent. He tried to go to sleep now, but he couldn't turn his mind off. His forehead and shoulders were dotted with sweat that annoyingly dripped down every now and again, tickling his body.


	3. Chapter 3

"I think I keep seeing Stevie's bike everywhere we go in this town," Dean said, glancing in his mirrors once again. They had already checked out the Thomas' house, the mother was home, the dad at work. Again, they found nothing.

Sam laughed in the passenger seat. "You know that's not her name, right?" As his brother's look of dumb confusion, Sam continued. "She was just messing with you. Axl Rose, Stevie Nicks. Popular rock names."

Dean huffed, "What? That's stupid. Her name is Stevie Nicks and it's meant to be. She _wants_ me, Sammy."

"As much as you want her?"

"Yes, shut up."

"You'll probably never see her again, Dean."

Dean shrugged and turned up the radio. Upon hearing Steve Winwood's _Dear Mr. Fantasy_ , Dean smirked at his brother and turned it up louder, singing along off-key.

* * *

They went back to the motel around three to check on Cas and do more research on the case. So far they knew nothing more than they had before and they were running out of time. The next baby, who that would be they had no idea, was to be taken soon, if the monster or whatever it was took them consistently.

Cas had moved from laying back on the bed to sitting up, cross-legged on the end of it. His back was almost completely strait and his eyes were closed, his hands open and his palms facing the ceiling. He was praying. Hard.

Dean moved into the room first, quietly as to not disturb him. Cas's breathing was in fast pants that Dean could hear from the door.

Sam walked in behind him, equally cautious about the angel praying on Dean's bed. Sam quietly sat his bag down on the crappy carpet and mushed around inside it until he found the glass bottle of liquid morphine and a syringe. He tiptoed over to Cas, who was almost completely dead to the world. He heard a quiet mumbling coming from his friend, too quiet to hear what he as saying.

He gently reached for Cas's arm and touched it, feeling for a vein. He inserted the syringe into his skin and pushed the plunger down. Immediately, a sign came from Cas. His eyes opened, but he didn't more his head from its bowed position. "Thank you."

"Yeah... sure, Cas." Sam returned the syringe to the med kit inside the bag. Castiel looked up and made eye contact with Dean. Dean was startled, feeling like Cas was staring into his soul. Cas sifted through Dean's memories of the last day, and then closed his eyes. His internal pain could not be shown to Dean. It could never be known.

Dean, feeling unnerved, sat his bag down at the table and started to read a lore book, looking for anything that resembled their case. Missing babies, forty-eight hours apart, specific lore about Texas Native American gods and goddesses. He tried to keep his mind of the girl whose name was apparently not Stevie Nicks.

Sam opened two bottles of beer and handed one to Dean, who had taken off his suit jacket but remained in his white shirt and dress pants. Cas subtly stared at him, admiring the way the fabric hugged his arms, not too tight. His white sleeves were rolled up to his forearms and Cas could see the taunt muscles around his wrists flexing as he flipped through and handled large books and John's journal.

Cas slowly laid back down, groaning at the dull pain as his stitches shifted. He tried to fall asleep, and eventually did, forgetting about life for a moment.

* * *

Dean was startled wen Sam suddenly turned the laptop around to face him, showing his whatever was on the screen. "Dean, both of the babies were born at the same hospital and get this, the same room."

Dean looked down at the two small windows comparing documents and confirmed that Sam was right. "How far apart were they born?"

"Forty-eight hours. We need to see who was the next kid to be born in that room and track down the family." He stood up, grabbing his jacket. "I'll go, you stay here with Cas. If he's human now, he might be hungry."

Cas heard all of this and though he hadn't thought about it, there was a strange tightening feeling in his stomach that could be hunger.

Sam left the room and Cas called to Dean.

"What is it, buddy?" Dean stood up and went closer to his bed to hear Cas better.

"I think I am hungry. What... what do I eat?"

Dean smiled, a genuine smile. "There are several pizza places within walking distance. Do you want pizza?"

Cas's brow furrowed. He'd never eaten pizza, he didn't know what it tasted like or if he'd like it. The whole rest of the planet seemed to like it, and so did Dean, so that was good enough for him. "Pizza would be nice."

Dean fumbled in his pants pocket for his cell phone and began to dial a number off a hotel pamphlet. Dean leaned against the dresser, looking down at the floor as he talked to the person.

His eyes flickered to Cas, laying on his side, his knees brought up and his arms crossed guarded over his bare, bandaged chest. He looked so fragile, and Dean only wanted to lay beside him with a gun and protect him from all harm, from whoever thought he could hurt Cas and get away with it.

"So, Cas, what can you tell me about who attacked you? I want to find that son of a bitch."

Cas turned to his other side to face Dean. "I don't know who it was. I was in Orleans, the new one," he added awkwardly, "and I was sitting, minding my own business. I sensed only humans around me, but someone touched me and transported us to somewhere dark. He, or she, I couldn't tell, kept taunting me. _Do you remember me, Castiel? Do you remember what you've done? You'll pay!_ " One tear leaked from Cas's eye and fell down across the bridge of his nose and dripped off.

Dean apologized. "Whoever it was seemed to have a big grudge on you. Do you think that whatever they cut you with took your mojo, too?"

Cas weakly shrugged his shoulder. He had no idea why his grace was gone. He wouldn't survive without it much longer. He was an angel, and whatever happened made him feel empty, his life force was gone. "I woke back up in an alley, and I waited for you until you and Sam were alone to transport here. Transporting seems to be the only thing I can do. I can't even hear angel radio."

Dean went to say something, but there was a knock at the door and a man's call. "Pizza!"

Dean took out his wallet from his discarded suit jacket and opened the door, only to be thrown back inside the room, crashing into the dresser with the force to shatter the wood.

"Dean!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Dean!" Cas's eyes burned an angry blue but nothing happened. A man in a pizza employee's uniform cam walking in with a pizza box and sat it down on the table. Dean hadn't moved.

"Castiel. How delightful to see you again." It was the same voice he had heard, and, like last time, it sounded both male and female. "Do you remember me, yet?"

Cas said nothing, his eyes still burning. The pizza man's eyes flash to the all-black of a demon's for a moment before he blinked and they were normal again. "No? That's a shame. You and I go way back, Castiel. How's your friend, here?" He slowly and deliberately stepped to Dean, eyeing his still figure on the ground.

He squatted down and checked Dean's pulse. It was slow, but there. The demon took his chin in his hands and tilted Dean's face towards him. "Don't touch him!" Cas threatened.

The demon smirked, knowing that Cas could do nothing. He caressed Dean's slack face with his fingertips. His licked Dean's cheek with his long snake-like tongue that extended several inches. Then he kissed his frozen lips, slipping his tongue deep into Dean's mouth first before sealing their lips. Cas yelled out again, trying to stand up, but fell painfully on the floor on his stomach. He was helpless.

The demon pulled back from Dean, "I see why you like him, Castiel. His lips are... damn. And this body? Fuck, I don't know how I've held control this long." He stood, looking Cas directly in the eyes. Cas stared back with seething hate.

"I'll be back for you. I'd kill you now, but that wouldn't be much fun. I promise you, I'll let you watch me as I take your precious Dean away from you and do some very bad things. It'll be fun!" The chipper demon smiled and patted the top of Cas's head before vanishing.

Cas panted in severe pain, feeling his ripped stitches start to bleed. He tried to crawl to Dean, toward his limp body uncomfortably lying on top of the remains of the dresser. He gave it all of his effort, but passed out from the pain and his world went black.

 _Dean..._

* * *

Post-chaos was the first thing Sam saw when he arrived back at the motel in the Impala. Right from the start he knew something was wrong. The motel room door was swinging off its hinges.

He rushed forward into the room, seeing Cas bleeding out of the floor and his brother unconscious, or worse. "Dean!" He rolled Cas's limp body over and snagged a sheet from the bed, pressing it against his wound. A pillow fell onto the ground with it and Sam stared at it for a moment before pinching the corner and tossing it at Dean.

Dean jumped into consciousness at the impact of the annoying object on his face. "Sammy?"

"Dean, what the hell happened?" Sam and Dean glanced around the room, trying to piece together information, but it seemed the only one who had it was lying on the floor, out cold.

Dean dragged himself from the pile of broken wood furniture under him, aching everywhere and bleeding from a sizable cut on the back of his leg. He smelled pizza. "I answered the door for the pizza guy and... I was out and that's the last thing I remember. Demon. Sam, the pizza guy was a demon."

"We have to call someone. Another angel who can heal Cas. Who doesn't hate us?"

Dean had to think for a long time on that one and didn't come up with a good answer. It's bad when you piss off an entire species. "Whose side of the war was Cas on? Would someone from there be willing to help?"

Sam shook his head helplessly. "I don't know. Dean, he's going to die. We have to get him to a hospital. He's practically human now, anyway."

Agreeing, Dean caught the keys from Sam and went to start the Impala. With all the lore and crap all over their motel room, someone would think they were psyco killers or something and call the police. No, they would take Cas to the hospital themselves.

* * *

West Native Creek had one hospital. It smelled of antibacterial soap and clean linens. Dean carried Cas into the emergency room, demanding a doctor. They had asked what Cas's blood type was, and neither Sam nor Dean had any idea. Dean combed through Jimmy Novak's wallet that Cas kept in his pocket, and found an emergency card stating his blood type, that he was a donor, emergency contacts, and other things.

The doctors pushed the brothers out of Cas's room, making Dean nervous. If they found anything weird, Dean wouldn't be there to explain it to them.

The police showed up, asking them why they had a missing person in their care. They had to act like they'd just found him in an alley. Dean was accosted by a nurse insisting that she clean and stitch his leg. "Honey, I know you're the tough kinda guy, but you need to let me take a look at that cut. I'm not going to ask any questions."

Dean sighed and let her drag him away from Cas's room into a curtained-off where the old woman insisted that he pulled down his pants and laid on his stomach on the hospital bed so that she could reach the back of his leg.

Dean's blood had soaked down to the back of his knee, gravity now making the blood go sideways down onto the clean white towel she placed under his leg. Dean hissed as she started to clean his wound.

Minutes later, his thigh was bandaged and he was back on his feet. The nurse gave him painkillers despite his insisting that he was fine, that it didn't hurt. Sam turned to his brother as he returned to the hallway outside Cas's room. The door was open, but they didn't go in.

"They re-stitched Cas, and have him a whole bunch of pain medicine, so he may be out for a while." Sam walked away to take a break, maybe find a snack machine. He knew his brother needed some time alone. If he thought he was taking this thing with Cas hard, it was nothing compared to now.

Dean went into Cas's room. His friend looked so _human_ in that hospital bed, IV needles giving him blood and fluids. His eyes were closed, dark circles around them standing out over his pale face. Castiel had stubble on his chin now, like his body had turned human and began to do human things like grow hair.

Dean sat down in an uncomfortable chair on the side of the room. He watched Cas's bandaged chest rise and fall in quick strokes, struggling to breathe. _God, wherever the fuck you are, you can't let Cas be like this._

Dean sighed and looked at Cas's monitor. His heart rate was too high, his body temperature raised in fever. Inside, Dean wanted to punch a wall, stab a demon, stab _himself_ , but on the outside, he only sat there, his gaze blankly on Cas's pale, sickly face.

* * *

 _Castiel felt himself wake up, and where his body was once aching and burning is completely fine now. He opened his eyes and looked down at himself: his body was in a white hospital bed, his torso bandaged and bound. He looked around the room, and almost gasped when he saw he had company._

 _"Dean?"_

 _His friend sat on a chair, looking at a spot on the bed behind him. Cas swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, going to poke Dean's shoulder. Dean's stony face stayed perfectly still, not even noticing Cas was there at all._

 _"Dean." Cas tried to touch Dean's shoulder, but recoiled as his hand went right through. Dean was an illusion?_

 _"Dean!" Cas spun around to look at whatever Dean was looking at. No, Castiel was the illusion. Cas's body laid there on the bed, still, practically lifeless, and pale._

" _God, wherever the fuck you are, you can't let Cas be like this_." The words weren't his, but Dean's.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean, after sitting in the chair sideways and resting his head against the wall, fell asleep. He drempt about earlier that day, taking care of Cas, making the mistake to simply open the door to a random stranger, even someone as innocent as the pizza guy. His own snore woke him up.

Dean rubbed his face. Because of his mistake, Cas is in a worse condition than before. Dean didn't know what happened while he was out. The pizza guy could have done something to Cas, could have said something to him, pretty much anything he wanted. Castiel was without defense. He could have _died_.

Dean tried to imagine what his life would have been if Cas were killed. He did _not_ like it.

Dean stood up in search for a vending machine. He wanted a beer, but this was a hospital. Sam caught him in the hallway on the way to Cas's room. Dean ripped open his water bottle and gulped it down, feeling strangely thirsty. They walked back to Cas's room together, taking slow steps.

The first thing the bothers saw when they got back was Cas's open blue eyes. He was messing with his hospital gown, sitting up.

"Water." His voice was scratchy, deep. Dean handed him his half-empty water and Cas winced as he tried to bring it to his lips. Dean reached forward to help him.

"Let me do that." He touched the rim to Cas's lips and tipped it back gently. Cas drank the cool water until he nodded his head, and Dean put the water down on the table by the bed.

Sam watched them with a small smile. "I'll go tell the doc he's awake." Sam left the room.

Dean wiped a water drop from Cas's mouth and was instantly hit with a wave of nausea. His eye wide, he fell to the ground, retching. Castiel's eyes were huge then. He knew that he had accidentally caused Dean's pain.

"Dean? Dean, I'm sorry. I don't know how that happened, or why," His voice was better now.

"It's fine, Cas. It's-" He cut himself off with a groan, lowering his head to the edge of Cas's hospital bed. "I'll be fine. Just don't touch anybody else." He didn't actually vomit, but the retching just hurt his stomach and throat and lungs and just everything.

Cas laid back down, feeling terrible. An embarrassed blush covered his cheeks and Sam came into the room with Cas's doctor in tow.

"Dean, what happened?" Sam touched his brother's shoulder, crouching down beside him. Sam also used his freakishly long arms to grab the trash can from by the window on the far wall and put it beside Dean.

"I'll tell you later. It's a Cas thing."

The doctor was already checking Cas's vitals, his patient looking weirded out for no one has ever asked to look down his throat or pressed a tool to his chest to hear him breathe. The doctor didn't actually touch Cas with his skin, so he did not feel the effects of Cas's rogue mojo.

Dean dragged himself into the chair and held his head in his hands, hanging over the tin trash can.

* * *

Sam and Dean returned to Mr. Brown's store after the sun went down. Some time after explaining what had happened with Castiel, and sipping eighteen ounces of water, Dean felt good enough to go with Sam to Mr. Brown's store.

The boys parked the Impala in the short alley on the other side of the store. Sam had to squeeze through the window, unable to open it because of how closely parked they were to the dumpster.

Ge grunted when he was finally out of the car. Dean was already in the trunk, loading up on guns and blades. "You can never have too many knives," their dad always used to say.

"We're looking for anything weird. Hex bags, especially." Dean closed the trunk when they were done and looked around quickly before stepping out into the quiet, dark street front. Dean dropped to kneel in front of the glass shop door, jiggling his lock-pick a few times before pushing it open.

The brothers froze as a loud bell sound rung out over the silent block. Sam glared at his brother. How did he not notice the string of bells on the door? Dean gave him a standoffish look before gently pushing the door the rest of the way open.

Inside was a very different place then they expected in the small town- in conservative Texas, no less. Little golden and wooden statues of the Buddha and many other gods littered the shelves in all shapes and sizes. Bamboo plants and greenery were everywhere, and a solid smell of herbal oils was almost intoxicating. It made the air heavy in Dean's lungs.

The boys split up among the isles of books and decorative things and candles, scanning for EMF, and moving small things aside to check for strange trap doors, cellars, or sub-rooms. There were none of that kind.

"I think this Brown guy's clean. Sammy, smell this candle." Dean held up a red candle to Sam's face, the label hidden by his hand. Sam looked strangely at his brother before sniffing it quickly. He flinched back.

"Dean, what is that?"

"It's a candle that smells like sex," he inhales from the glass deeply, "It's off, too much... bleh."

Sam turned his back and went back to searching. Dean placed the candle back to its place on a floor-to-ceiling shelf next to the _Tantric Sex_ books. His eyebrow raised and he plucked one from the shelf, flipping it open to a random page. "Huh."

Sam glanced once at his brother before rolling his eyes, seeing he was occupied and thinking nothing more was going to get done if he didn't do it himself. He was closer to the front of the store again now, by the cash register counter. He crouched down and began poking around in the cabinets there. Dean smirked at his book and looked at his brother.

"Sam, look at- what is that?" He sets the book down on the wrong shelf and crouches down. Sam knows better than to stand up in the view of the windows just in case someone is standing out there, or whatever Dean was looking at outside.

Dean went closer to his brother. "Sam, slowly, look over there." He put his hand on Sam's shoulder as the two finally focused on a figure walking down the sidewalk on the other side of the road.

"Dude, it's her. Stevie Nicks," Dean whispered.


	6. Chapter 6

"What is she doing here?" The boys ducked down lower as she crossed the street, going strait for the front door of Mr. Brown's store.

"Shit. Hide," Dean and Sam scrambled to the back of the store to hide behind doors and under blanket-covered tables. The front door, which was still unlocked opened silently: she clearly knew about the bell. Dean could see through the small window in the door he was hidden behind that she was dressed in all black and was slowly walking forward deeper into the shop.

Dean squinted, but he was sure he saw a large, very large, knife in her hand- like the ones the Brothers used to decapitate monsters.

Dean jumped up and knocked the knife out of her hand, pushing her into a wall. She gasped: Dean had surprised her. However, before Dean could blink she disappeared before their eyes. Sam stood from under the table and eyed her knife on the floor. "Dean, look at those markings. You every seen those before?"

Sam picked it up with a bandanna, just in case something weird would happen if he touched it directly. Dean shook his head. The symbols were blocky like all-caps handwriting and glowing slightly. The light faded away when Sam picked it up. He and Dean glanced around themselves, looking or her to pop back up. She was gone, leaving silence in her wake.

"Let's get out of here, Dean. Brown's clean anyway."

"Yeah."

The boys locked the giant knife in a hex box in the trunk and went back to the hotel for a few hours of sleep

* * *

Castiel tried his hardest not to touch anyone. He already sent a nurse away with a fever. He felt so bad: he didn't mean to do it, really!

In his dreams the demon haunted him. _I'm going to get Dean, and when I do I'm going to wreck his beautiful body._ Castiel didn't want to remember the rest of it. He survived until morning when the boys came into his hospital room, wearing their normal clothes.

Dean wore his favorite red plaid button-up over a black t-shirt. He carried a white paper bag in his hand and sat it down in Cas's lap. Sam smiled at his brother.

Cas eyed the bag, then looked at Dean again.

"Cas, it's donuts. Just try them." Cas picked at the bag and pulled out a cherry glazed one. Sam nodded encouragingly.

Cas bit into it. The rest of it was gone in under ten seconds. Cas smiled weakly. "I... Haven't eaten since... I do not remember."

Dean nodded. "You never did get to eat pizza. I put it in the hotel fridge. How you feeling?"

Cas frowned. "It hurts."

Sam nodded. "I'll go get a nurse, maybe they can give you more pain killers." Sam left the room. Castiel picked another donut from the bag, a chocolate one, and ate it, sipping water from a white paper hospital cup. Dean sat in the chair covered in poofy green padding.

"Who is paying for this hospital room?" Cas asked, watching as Dean reached behind him and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. Old and weathered as the wallet was, Cas has only seen Dean carry that one wallet. He thought it was John's.

He flashed Cas a sparkly silver credit card. "Mister, uh, Grant Rossum II."

A smile ghosted on Castiel's lips. "Okay." A moment passed in comfortable silence. "When do I get out of here? They think I'm Jimmy Novak, a missing person. The police might contact his family or come question me. I have his memories still, so I can lie, but I don't want to."

"Me and Sam'll get out outta here as soon as you're stable enough. Do you think an other angel would zapdown here and heal you?"

Cas shook his head solemnly. "Doubtful. After all the things I have done? We could contact Balthazar."

"Balthazar? Okay, I can do that if you think it's a good idea. What about Anna?"

Castiel shook his head. "Not Anna." Cas didn't explain why. "Balthazar can move me to a hotel room, and assess my injuries. He might be able to tell us what kind of blade that was or who the demon was that has it."

After telling Cas about the mysterious woman, Stevie Nicks, and how they had her knife, they left Cas there to rest.

* * *

Sam and Dean stood in an old motel room in the next town, Sam laying out the things for the summoning ritual. Dean copied the Latin from a fat, leather-bound book onto a small piece of paper.

Sam straitened up, comparing his work in the cheap table to the chart in the book. "Alright, we good?" Dean closed his book and handed the paper to Sam.

"Yeah."

"Okay, let's do this." He started the chant, mixing things in the wood mixing bowl in the middle of the symbols before lighting a match. "I summon Balthazar," and he tossed the match into the bowl. The flames danced high and silent for a moment. And then, just like someone smote the flame, it disappeared, the remains burned to a smolder.

Dean looked at Sam. Sam looked at Dean. Both shrugged. And then a voice behind Dean made him jump a couple inches. "Hello boys."

The blond-headed, lanky angel walked around them to eye the table. He raised an eyebrow. "Hm, black cat claws. How _do_ you get those things?"

"You don't wanna know," Dean said.

"So," Balthazar began, "why was I called away from a ocean-side dinner with my pretty lady friend? What can I do for you?" He opened his arms dramatically and leaned against the table, putting his hands down coolly on the edge.

"Cas needs your help. He's hurt. We need to get him from his hospital room into that bed," Dean pointed to the queen size bed furthest from the door, "and we need to do it without anybody seeing. Which means _we_ can't."

"Why in the blazes is Castiel in the hospital?" Balthazar's accent flared up.

"Some demon who's got a beef with him cut him down the front with something. We don't know what, but he's a mortal. Eating, bleeding, pain. The police are going to come in asking questions. We need him out of there."

Sam added, "It'll help a lot if you'd bring his medicine, too. The hospital has way better meds than we do."

Balthazar nodded. "I'll do it. For Cas. Where's the hospital?"

* * *

Sam reviewed the bulleted list he'd written in a spiral notebook. "Okay so, The two children that were taken in West Native Creek correlate with two children born in the same hospital back in 1985. But that room was closed due to leaky water pipes in the ceiling. Another baby wasn't born in that room for another two months. If whatever is taking the kids stays to the pattern, we have two months to figure out what it is and kill it before it takes another kid."

Dean nodded. "Well, that's just peachy."

"What's wrong, Dean?"

Dean deadpanned. "Nothing, Sammy."

Dean stood up and went to the hotel fridge. He pulled a beer from the box on the shelf and popped it open, his gaze lingering on the white cardboard pizza box. He closed the door.

"Is this about Cas?"

Dean turned around to face his brother. "You're working on the case when Cas is hurt and needs us-"

"Dean, you were doing the same thing when he first got hurt. You were so excited to eat a steak that you seemed to forget all about Cas-"

A crashing sound cut him off and wind whooshed in the other room. Sam's papers flew off the table and their cloths and hair were momentarily blasted with air.

"Here you go, Cas." Balthazar laid his fragile brother down on the bed. Castiel was still in the paper hospital gown, pant-less and shoe-less. He groaned as he laid back on the bed.

Dean and Sam went to stand by Balthazar. "Can you tell what's happening to him?" Sam asked, raising his brows hopefully. Balthazar sighed, dropping a draw string bag onto the bed.

"His medicine. Stole the bag from some ugly nurse's locker. As far as I can tell, his angel powers are slowly fading. The longer he stays injured, stays mortal, the more mortal he becomes."

Dean sat his beer down on the bedside table between the two beds and reached out to feel Cas's forehead, but remembered what happened last time he touched him and thought better of it. "Do you know what's causing it?"

"I have no idea." He snapped his fingers and a clip board appeared in his hand. He handed it to Sam. "His chart, so you know when to give him his medicine and which kind."

Sammy shook his hand. "Thank you, Balthazar."

"You boys owe me."

Sam nodded. "Can I show you something?" He proceeded to tell his angel friend about the knife they got from the woman who followed them. They slowly made their way out the hotel door to the Impala, there the knife was.

Dean looked down at Cas, whose eyes were closed in pain. His gentle whimpered escaped his chapped lips. "I'm going to take care of you, Cas."


	7. Chapter 7

Sam unlocked the hex box, showing the knife inside to Balthazar. He picked it up out of the box, unwrapping the cloth around it. The symbols started to glow again as he touched the handle.

"I think it's a Barsuse blade. There were only a few made, back before Jesus, by a tribe of powerful Himalayan sorcerers."

"A bunch of witches made this?" Sam asked.

"Not witches, dumbass. Sorcerers. They're much smarter. They don't sell their souls for power. The Barsuse blades light up when there's a supernatural creature near, anything that's not human. Me, for example."

Balthazar sighed. "I don't think this was the blade that cut Castiel, though. This one doesn't have that kind of power. It just lights up pretty."

Sam thought for a moment. "That girl, when she had it in the store it was glowing. It wouldn't have been glowing unless there was some kind of creature there. It was her, the woman."

Balthazar nodded. "That'll do it. I gotta get back to my lady friend now. Unless you boys are on the brink of death any time tonight, don't call me."

Balthazar disappeared with a flush of his invisible wings.

Sam breathed for a moment, wielding the large knife around, cutting the air. It was large, but well balanced. He liked it. It did not glow in his hand. He had an idea.

* * *

"You want me to do what?" Castiel asked, weakly squinting at Sam with his head tilted in confusion.

"Just hold the blade. Balthazar said it glows in the presence of supernaturals, anything that's not human. I'm testing how human you are right now."

Castiel nodded, understanding. When Sam sat the blade in his hand, the blocky symbols glowed very weakly. "It... it tingles. Like- like it's alive."

Cas handed the blade back. Dean just watched the knife curiously. "Gimme that thing." He took it and stood from the bed swinging it around through the air. "Oh, this is nice. You think she'll come for it?"

Sam shrugged. "No idea. She might not know where we are. As soon as Cas it good enough to survive a car ride with you we need to get him to Bobby's." He ignored Dean's playful look of hurt and went behind the table to pick up his research from the floor.

Dean sat back on the bed, sitting up next to Cas, who was lying down still in the hospital gown.

"Cas, do you want some real cloths? Paper dresses kinda suck."

Cas just gently nodded. Dean didn't know where his trench coat and suit was, and that was usually the only cloths Castiel wore, all he had. He'd have to do with Dean's cloths. Dean went to his bag, searched around for a soft shirt that would be sine to wear for Cas. He eventually found a clean, soft grey t-shirt. He dug around some more, coming up with some dark plaid boxers and a pair of sweats that Dean never wore until all of his other cloths were dirty or covered in blood.

Sam was busy with the papers. Dean took the cloths and laid them on the nightstand by Cas's head. "I'm going to move your legs off the bed, then help you sit up. The ties are on your back, and I can't help you laying down. "

Cas nodded, knowing and trusting Dean to be gentle. Dean put on a par of winter gloves so he would't touch Cas's skin. After a minute and a half of moving and Cas's pained whimpers, Dean finally got him in a sitting-up position on the edge of the bed. Dean remained standing, reaching around to the ties on Cas's paper gown. Cas closed his eyes, hoping that would help him ignore Dean's hip and abdomen right next to his face.

Dean loosened the ties and took the gown off Cas's back and shoulders, leaving it in his lap so at least he'd be covered there. Dean took his soft shirt and put it over Cas's tousled hair, carefully helping his arms through the holes. As he avoided rubbing the bandages on his chest, he pretended not to notice Cas's gentle blush.

The blush deepened when Dean took the boxer shorts and knelt on the floor and helped his feet into them, looking at the far wall as he pulled them up with care. He pulled them over his thighs, his hands were under the gown now.

"I'll lift you up," Dean whispered gently. Cas worked to put his arms around Dean's shoulders so that Dean could lift him up and finish pulling the boxers over his anatomy. Overall, it worked well. Cas's deep red cheeks could be blamed on the pain if asked about it.

Dean reached for the sweats and helped those on the same way. It was much easier and less awkward now that they'd figured out how to work them.

Dean started to lower him back down to the bed. "Dean?" Casitel's voice was soft.

"What is it, Cas?" Dean's was equally gentle.

"I... I have to go to the bathroom."

Dean paused for a moment. Going to the bathroom was another thing for them to figure out. Castiel looked uncomfortable. Of course he would be: going to the bathroom was a new thing for him.

"...Okay. Okay we can figure out how to do that. I'll help you up. Put your arm over my shoulder." Dean was still wearing his long sleeve red shirt and gloves, so they shouldn't have skin-to-skin contact.

Castiel did as he was told, letting Dean lift him onto his feet. They gently walked around the bed toward the bathroom, not noticing Sam walk outside to the car with arms full of books. Cas could walk, but he couldn't balance. He was really weak and standing up made him dizzy. Several times he though he was falling, but Dean was there to prevent that from happening.

Dean and Cas went sideways through the bathroom door. Luckily, the bathroom was spacious and there was enough room for the both of them. Dean heard the Impala start up and pull away from the hotel. "Sam's probably going to the library."

* * *

After a couple of incredibly awkward minutes, Castiel had finished his business, Dean coming back in the bathroom to help him stand and walk. Crossing the thresh hold back into the open bedroom, Castiel tripped on the door frame and began to fall.

Clinging to Dean, he pulled his friend down to the ground with him. Cas landed on his side, Dean on his knees low above him. Dean groaned loudly, a crimson blush covering his cheeks instantly. Cas's hand was holding the back of Dean's head, touching his soft skin and hair. Castiel felt his energy move and let go immediately, but it was too late.

Dean cried out as spasms rocked his body, lowering his face onto Cas's shoulder with the sheer force of Cas's powers. Dean's eyes were wide open as were Cas's. Neither had expected _this_ to ever happen. Fevers and nausea were reasonable. Accidentally causing Dean to have the hardest orgasm of his life was mortifying.

" _Cas_!" Dean was clinging to the fabric of Cas's shirt with his gloved hands, having no control over himself. He ground his hips against Castiel's, moving between his parted legs, forcing the angel gently onto his back. He rested his forehead against Cas's shoulder, panting hard, starting to come down from the high quietly moaning with each fast breath.

The reality of the situation slowly started to kick in, and he was too mortified to move. Cas's cheeks were just as red. Cas couldn't ignore Dean's core in contact with his own. Dean stood up quickly, avoiding Castiel's eyes. His knees were weak as he reached down to pick up Cas.

It was an unspoken agreement between the two or them: _no one is to know about that._


End file.
